


The Other Side

by x_Luniana_x



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chestburster, Crying Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Despair, F/M, Heartwrenching, Hope I can make you cry too, Hurt Lucifer, I Made Myself Cry, Immortality vs. Mortality, Protective Lucifer, Tags are not in any order - I just add what comes to mind - please forgive me :D, The bomb goes off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 12:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20488901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_Luniana_x/pseuds/x_Luniana_x
Summary: Lucifer is at the brink of bleeding out on the floor of his club and the crazy woman clicks the detonator. The Detective throws herself on top of his partner in order to protect him… and the bomb goes off. (Alternative event for S04 E05)





	The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a little one shot that has been ghosting around in my head for a while. A simple "what if…?"-question on the episode "Expire Erect" (S4 E05) has led me to this little fic. I'm practising my angst game a bit. Hope you'll enjoy the read!
> 
> Recommended Song for this chapter:  
Ruelle - The Other Side

* * *

**The Other Side**

He had already lost focus on his surrounding several times.

The temptation to just give in and close his eyes for good in order to not feel cold anymore was luring him again and again. But her voice was a reminder of why he just couldn't. She was there. And despite his dire situation of exsanguinating on the floor of his own club, he wanted nothing more than to know that she was safe.

But she wasn't. None of them were safe with this crazy woman and the trigger in her shaky hand. He wanted to tell his Detective that he was going to be alright, so that she could set her full focus on the criminal. There was no need to worry for him after all. He _knew_ where he was heading to. Downwards so to speak. But it became hard to properly breathe, the damn bullet really digging into his guts.

_Bloody mortality…_

The detonator woman's expression changed into something more hysterical and he could vaguely hear how she was shouting something. It was all a blur, but when her finger on the trigger sunk down, things quickly sharpened around him to a horrifyingly detailed picture.

The Detective turned towards him and with a leap threw herself on top of him. The impact of her body was sending a painful jolt through him, one that pushed aside the dizziness and shook him wide awake for what happened just a second later.

A deep, dull explosion thundered through the club and a stinging high pitched tune, ringing uncomfortably in his ears followed right after. He tilted his head, feeling heavy and warmer than before. His eyes stared at Chloe's head, her face and palms resting against his chest. Swallowing, the taste of bitter blood and making him cringe, he lifted his shaking hands to lay on her lower back.

_Is she okay? Why has she done something so foolish… trying to protect me with her own body? She must have had a knee-jerk reaction..._

_So typical for humans..._

Grunting and groaning from the painful jolt she had sent into his stomach that forced him to come back to life, he carefully tried to lift his head to better look at her. Her eyes were closed and her expression so soft, he could have sworn she might have been sleeping. That thought immediately made his heart pound. "Detec-" he tried to call at her, but was coughing up a wave of dust. "Detective?" It came out more quiet than he had hoped his voice to be, but at least he had found the strength to speak at all.

He moved one hand to gently brush against her exposed cheek, tilting her head towards him, and a thin trail of blood at her ear caught his attention. His chest tightened, the thundering of his heart becoming more and more painful. "Detective?" he pressed on, his voice stronger this time, but laced with panic. Tears stung in his eyes, forcing him to blink to clear his vision.

_Why the hell isn't she moving?_

Brushing his hand to the junction of her jaw and neck, he felt for her pulse. "No no no no, Detective!?" he called in horror, unable to feel a sign of life.

Maybe he was too distraught and shaken to actually feel her pulse, or maybe...

_No! This can't be happening. This simply can't be happening…_

Despite his severe blood loss, his hammering heart not particularly helping against that, he found the presence of mind to look around as much as his position allowed him to. He needed to better look at her and be able to move. Spotting a nearby couch he reached out, gripped onto the couch leg and pulled himself towards it, the gravel beneath his back crunching. Making sure the Detective was dragged along with him, he shifted himself upwards, carefully holding onto her with one arm.

With his back resting against the couch, he let his one hand run soothingly over her back and used his other to caress over cheek again, his thumb tracing along her lips. "Detective?" he tried again, but his voice was cracking and a sob escaped him. He flinched when something sharp stung in his palm on her back and instinctively raised it to take a look.

_What the..._

He knew his hands had already been covered in his own blood from putting pressure on his wound, but there hadn't been a cut in his palm before. Frowning, he tilted his head over the Detective, scanning her back. Small spikes glistened in the dim flickering light and his breathing became heavier in an instant.

The blast had sent out a row of shards and splinters, shredding into her back and from the amount of blood that pooled from the slices of her jacket, he knew she was deeply wounded.

_Shit… This isn't good… Not at all…_

"Detective!? Please…" he called out again, coughing from dust and blood working its way up through his esophagus. "N-no… no c'mon, Detective! Don't do this t' me… C'mon… Not like this..." he muttered between sobs, pulling her closer against him and tucking her head in beneath his chin. Gently he started to rock her, careful not to touch the shards on her back.

_You can't be… No. No, no no no no!_

He shook his head in despair and denial. "Bloody hell! No!" he whined out through gritted teeth, his tears trickling down his face and dropping into Chloe's hair. "W-why would you do somethin' that stupid, hm? What lun'tic would want t' protect the Devil w-with her own life?"

He was about to start throwing insults at his Father, when a sharp gasp for air and Chloe's expanding shape, made him startle. She struggled, drawing deep, bubbling breaths, her eyes fluttering tiredly. Her lips moved and a quiet murmur made it out. It was impossible to decipher, but he didn't care. She was conscious and not dead.

"Hey!" he exclaimed frantically euphoric. "Look who'sn't dead!" he added in a slur with a tearful laugh and brushed away a strand of hair from her face. His heart joyfully bounced inside his chest, her almost-death and still worrisome situation putting him into a agitated limbo. "Detective? Please s-stay with me."

She was pale and her lower lip trembled as she continued to try to breath. "Urr... hou... mkay..." she muttered and coughed, tired blue eyes searching restlessly until she finally managed to focus on his troubled looking brown ones.

_Why the hell is she trying to talk?_

"Shush… No talkin', my dear…"

_Where were these damn police forces when you really needed them?! Didn't she say something about them going in through the south-west wall? There was a freaking explosion. Why is nobody barging in!?_

Her brows came together in a frown and it seemed she had to use a considerable amount of strength to focus. "Are you... nkay?" she asked, coughing and her fingers dug into his chest.

He stared back at her confused and baffled. "What?...Am I…" he breathed in perplexity. The sheer fact she had thrown herself on top of him in order to protect him, was already hard for him to fathom, and now, with her heavily wounded, she _still_ wanted to make sure he was alright. Blinking away his tears he shook his head. "Don't you d-dare... ask... f'r my wellbeing… _You're_ hurt..."

She continued to gaze back at him with hooded eyes, but then something in them changed. They started to glisten, the rim of her eyes turning red from the pressure of tears he could see welling up. And when the pressure became too much, the dam broke. With panting sobs she released the tears of her distress.

Her usually vibrant eyes had turned sad and worried, and he felt the desperate need to kiss her and make her detective-brain stop with its unnecessary torment. But he held back, despite his aching heart. "Please... D'n't look like that, dear… It's gonna be alright..." He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but it must have looked nothing like that with him sobbing almost as much as she did.

"Lucifer…" Chloe's voice was strained from pain, both physically and emotionally. He was about to protest and insist on her staying quiet, but a small shake with her head silenced him in return.

Because how could he ever deny her anything?

"...'m _so_ s-sorry." she whimpered and a fresh wave of tears trailed down her cheeks and dripped into his bloodstained shirt.

"W-why the hell would you be s-sorry? F-for what?" he pressed through clenched teeth. She wasn't supposed to feel sorry. Why ever would she feel she had to be? _He_ had been the one talking about finding a damn closure to their relationship in work and private. _He_ had been this stupidly adamant in trying to end something that had always made him feel truly happy.

Her lips pressed together and she looked at him tormented, but there was something else in her expression that tore at his heart. Shame. She closed her eyes, visibly struggling to focus, before she held his gaze again. "I hurt you. I betrayed you…" she broke out in tears, "You never did anything to deserve that… And I'm so ashamed… I just… I wish I could have had… more time to… regain your trust…" Her head rolled limply on his chest as she was unable to bend it enough to look at him any longer and her eyelids fluttered close from exhaustion.

His throat tightened as he stared at her in disbelief. _This _was what she was worrying about? Sure, he was still hurt from her betrayal. But what did it matter _now_? She was tormenting herself with what she did and he simply didn't _want _to feel angry at her. Especially not now with them both…

His own train of thoughts made him startle. Dying. They were both dying. How bloody impossible was that? He wasn't able to check for his wings in order to help heal her. He wasn't even sure if they'd still be there and not had rotten away with the return of his Devil face. And with Chloe around, he wasn't able to repel the bullet stuck in his guts.

And with the thought of her dying, inevitably came the thought about _where _she'd go. His eyes widened in a shocking realisation. Grasping her face he gently shook her, pensively trying to make her open her eyes again. "No no no. Chloe? Chloe, look 't me! 's okay. You hear me? 's alright. You don't have feel like this anymore… Please. Look 't me!" he sobbed, his thumbs caressing over the wet trails on her cheeks. "'s alright. I forgive you." he breathed, looking at her, torn and desperately. "Please don't feel guilty…" he begged, terrified about the thought of her tormenting herself with her guilt in a hell loop for all eternity.

She was so pale, his blood stained hands holding onto her cheeks made her look surreal. "D-do you?" her voice murmured quietly, almost too weak to be heard.

Another sob escaped him as he nodded even though she didn't have her eyes open for him to see. "Of course. Of course, I forgiv' you. An' you better s-stay the hell alive so I can s-show that to you, Detective." he warned her, feeling himself starting to fall apart at the thought of her dying.

He watched as she let out a faint coughing laugh which was more worrying than calming to watch and the corners of her lips twitched up in an attempt to smile before they turned neutral.

"D-Detective?" he asked hoarsely.

But she didn't react.

Raising her head, he felt she didn't hold herself up at all anymore and her right hand slipped off his chest, limply landing on the floor. "Detective, I said I need you t-to stay alive to-" Sucking in trembling breaths, he suddenly fell quiet when his eyes wandered from her hand to her face and over her back. She wasn't moving. He couldn't feel her chest expand or take rasping breaths anymore.

"No no no, don't do this to me, Chloe. Please… please don't…" He pulled her closer against himself, gently resting her head in the crook of his neck as he held her in place with one hand. With his other he carefully reached over her back, slowly plucking away the shards and thick splinters from her flesh. In an onslaught of emotions he whimpered, his hand moving on its own. "It's gonna be alright… You gonna be okay. You _have_ to be okay. Please… Please, you have to be, because I can't be here without you..."

_I can't _live _without you..._

His jaw clenched in anger as he felt the one thing he despised more than anything else he could imagine and that made this situation even worse than it already was.

The bullet in his stomach began to be pushed out as his body increased its healing process with the help of his divine metabolism.

He was healing because, despite her laying in his arms, she was gone.

He was healing and at the same time it was tearing him apart.

Within moments he could feel his dizziness lessen, his vision sharpen and his breathing become even, deep and strong.

And he hated every bit of it.

Grunting he gripped onto the remaining shards, his hand tightly folding around the shrapnel and pulling them out one by one, but he felt no sting in his palm. Tossing the last bloodstained piece away, he wrapped his arm around her back, rocking her softly. "Please don't be gone…" he went on, his lips pressed against her temple, as if his trembling voice could vibrate directly into her consciousness. "Please, Chloe. I can't… I don't wanna lose you. Please…"

Distraught and aimlessly, he let his eyes wander across the club, just now noticing what damage had actually been done around him.

The crazy detonator woman got buried under a pile of concrete, her hands showing forth from how she had last tried to pull herself out from her grave. Without success.

Several people ran past him, one man almost stumbling over his outstretched legs, just able to catch himself. He sobbed and shielded his head from a small rain of dust and gravel that came down from the ceiling as he ran past and towards a group which seeked shelter at the other side of the club. It seemed more stable and less affected from the explosion.

His eyes wandered to the upper side floor.

_Eve. Miss Lopez… Did they…?_

He hadn't even thought about them, his mind completely absorbed from the horror he held in his arms and continued to rock back and forth.

A blast from the far corner tore his attention away. Over a dozen people stormed inside, guns raised and scanning the room as they moved through. Then a wave of medics followed, spreading on the groups of guests that had formed at the distant side wall. They started immediately to check them for injuries, supported them and guided them outside. Most of them were walking, a handful being carried outside on litters.

Surely the women have made it out and were unscathed, he tried to reassure himself, gently brushing through his Detective's hair. Looking back down at her, the world around him slipped away in a blur of nullities, his sole focus on the one being in all of his existence that had managed to flip his world upside down and capture his heart with just her very presence.

He didn't notice how he had started crying again, the salty droplets finding their way down his cheeks and into his stubble.

"I never told you." he muttered, stifling another sob. Brushing the back of his hand over his eyes, he dipped his head down, tenderly nuzzling his nose into her blonde hair, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent.

He knew he would imagine smelling it for the rest of his eternal life.

A bittersweet memory.

"I was such a bloody coward… I was afraid you'd reject me if I told you… And now… now it's too late." Pausing, he rolled around a thought in his mind, before nodding lightly. "I'll find a way to tell you. I'll storm the gates of heaven if necessary. I don't care. I just want you to know that I-"

The sudden tension of her whole body came with a simultaneous and equally unexpected, deep gasp for air. He startled and pulled away from her neck to hold and stare back at her, frozen. Her eyes were wide open as she took in breath after breath, deep, throaty and frantically. Reaching to hold her face, his heart hammering so fast he was afraid to faint, he intently looked at her to get her attention. "Chloe? Chloe! Look at me. Easy, darling… Focus." he instructed her gesturing her to talk calmer breaths with him.

She followed his lead, her fingers gripping into his arms as she took one breath after another, calming down from the shock she appeared to be in. Wetting his lips, he let their heads rest against each other and a chuckle fell from his lips, half relieved, half desperate. "Look who's back…" he pressed in a whispering whimper and raised his head to kiss her forehead. "Please don't this again to me…"

Chloe's eyes fluttered and a soft smile spread on her lips, her cheeks flushing back to life. While his heart made joyful jumps, his mind mind was running a marathon.

_What happened? How was she? Where did she go? Heaven? Hell? And how did she come back?_

He was about to ask her, when another male voice tore into their space and a medic crouched down next to them. "Excuse me Ma'am? Sir?" His eyes were the only thing that gave something away of his expression, as his mouth was covered from a mask to protect him from the dusty air. "Where are you injured?" He started to inspect Chloe's back, her jacket torn and bloodstained from the shards that had stuck in it.

"I'm… I'm fine." Chloe responded, sounding calm, although her voice was still a bit shaky. "I… I don't feel any pain. Just a bit dizzy."

_What? How can she be fine?_

Lucifer frowned. "She… she has been hit from shards flying around… I pulled them out..." he muttered confused and looked between her and the medic, who in return inspected the cuts in the jacket more closely. She stayed quiet, but her hands continued to clutch around Lucifer's arms and he hoped she was truly alright. Was she perhaps suffering silently? She had been dead. There was no doubt about that. So she had been taken to one of the two possibilities from his sister Azrael.

"Hm… well there is quite a lot of blood, but I cannot make out any wounds on first sight. I'd have to ask you to come with me to the ambulance car outside so we can take a closer look." the medic explained before looking at Lucifer. "What about you, Sir?"

Irritated, the question not even making sense to him, he scoffed. Looking down between himself and Chloe, he glanced at his stomach, his shirt drenched in blood, but something else stuck out glistening a light shade of gold of some sorts. Reaching down he picked up the small thing, immediately noticing what it was. Not wanting to raise any more questions and concern, he quickly hid the smashed bullet, although he saw how Chloe gave him a worried look when she noticed. He shook his head at her in silence. "No, I'm fine. All good. Just make sure she's alright, will you?" he went on towards the medic.

With combined effort they got on their feet. The medic gently took a hold onto Chloe's arm, but she continued to hold onto Lucifer in protest. "It's alright, Detective. I won't go anywhere." he tried to assure her. She visibly struggled, but eventually nodded and walked outside with the medic. Twice she turned around, looking back at him to make sure he followed.

She looked distraught somehow and he was terrified for the reasons of why that might be. Had she been in hell? Had she not listened to him and accepted that he had forgiven her? Had she not forgiven herself?

The outside of the club was a concurrence of police, ambulance and firemen who started to secure the building and inspect if there were any dangers in the overall structure. Dozens of his guests were gathered, cuddled in blankets and taken care of from medics, while the police took statements.

Just like he said, he stayed at Chloe's side while the medic inspected her back. Upon announcing that she had no injuries and that she was probably just in shock, the medic wrapped her in a blanket and went on to help another guest.

_No injuries?_

Dan made his way to them the moment he spotted them and began to ramble about how he had made a mistake and how sorry he was. But Lucifer soon started to get upset from Dan's inappropriate behaviour for the time being and eventually cut him off. "Listen Daniel. We get it. You're sorry. It's been a really long and tough day as you can _hopefully_ imagine. How about you talk to the Detective tomorrow and grant her some rest, hm?"

But before Dan could respond, Chloe turned towards Lucifer. "I'm alright, Lucifer. I… I'll talk things through with Dan and give him my statement."

He stared at her, trying to read her expression, but she merely gave him a gentle smile and finally released his arms with a last squeeze. Swallowing he nodded. "Alright then… Does that mean I see you tomorrow?" He saw her eyes shimmering from something he wasn't sure of and hated how hard it was for him to read her sometimes.

_Emotions are still a bloody inconvenient thing..._

"Yeah. Tomorrow." she confirmed softly, the smile on her lips widening before she turned towards Dan, who had been quietly waiting, obviously still struggling with the situation he had miscalculated.

Reluctantly walking away from her, he headed aimlessly through the crowd, his mind racing and not sure what to do. Passing by several of his guests, he was suddenly tackled from the side and slender arms hugged around him.

"Luce!" Eve cheered and pulled back to look at him. "Oh thank god, there you are! I'm _so_ glad you're okay!"

He glanced over her features, a form of worry just starting to build slowly, but standing in no comparison to his ongoing thoughts about the Detective. But that didn't mean he wasn't concerned at all. Merely… less. Taking in her appearance he noticed she had a cut that had been treated on her temple and a bandage on her upper right arm along with some smaller scratches on her hands on shins. "Yeah, well, we all know how often He gets the credit for just about everything, don't we?" he muttered. "Eve, where's Miss Lopez? Is she alright?"

Eve quickly nodded. "Yes, yes… she's alright. Mostly. I mean, she only got some scratches and I think the doctors said she's got a broken arm, but she'll be fine."

"Good… That's good." he agreed in thought. "What exactly happened? I thought you were directly with the bomb in hand."

Excitedly Eve nodded again. "Well, Ella wasn't sure she could make it and then she looked at me and she was all like 'I'm gonna through this damn thing like a freaking softball'. She called out to the people to hide in the other corner and threw the bomb off the balcony towards the opposite side."

"That explains what happened to my bar." he commented and felt uneasy as Eve clung to him again. "Listen, Eve… I…" Carefully, but with determination, he made her part from him, his hands on her shoulders. "I need some time for myself… There's some things I need to think about and I prefer to be alone for that."

She frowned, confused and he could tell she was hurt, but he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't going to lie. He _did_ wish to be alone. Too many things were roaming in his mind that did demand his attention and were impossible to push away. No matter how much he would have wanted to. Whatever concerned Chloe _couldn't_ wait and didn't deserve to be pushed aside like an unwanted detail.

"Okay… I… I'll see if I can stay with Ella. She'll be treated in the hospital, so, I'll just be there for her." she said reluctantly and put on a small, hurt smile before turning around and walking away into the crowd.

"Great…" he muttered under his breath and after a short talk with the fire chief, took the elevator to his penthouse.

* * *

He had tried to call for Azrael in prayer, silent and, after a handful attempts, also aloud, but the angel of death didn't respond. Then he had called out at his Father, not that he expected Him to ever respond, but he felt somewhat better after shouting at Him from the top of his lungs about what the hell (or heaven) had happened. Because something _had_ happened and he felt himself starting to lose his sanity, if he had to wait for his Detective to tell him what horrible thing might have happened to her.

Without an answer and being as clueless as he had been before his rant, he got out of his bloodstained and totally ruined clothes, discarded them in the bin, and headed in the bathroom to take a shower.

A long one.

Eyes closed, he let the hot water cascade down on him, the spray tingling comfortably against his strained muscles. Brushing over his stomach he felt the bullet wound had already fully healed during the minutes of the Detective's 'absence'. Nothing was left but impeccable skin.

With his head resting against his right forearm placed against the showers' wall, he tried to fathom what a ridiculously crazy and horrifying situation it had been. Her dying in his arms. Him almost dying as well, but then ironically living because she _didn't_ any longer. And then her waking up with no wounds at all. Impeccable. Just like him.

The question was not _how_. It was clear that it was his Father having His almighty finger in the pie. Of course, in theory, an angel could have brought her soul back into her body, similar to what he had done with Abel, but it didn't explain her wounds being gone without the touch of an angel's feather. So it could only have been _Him_.

Yearning for at least a bottle of his best whiskey, he finished showering, dried himself off before slipping into a fresh pair of pants and grabbing one of his favourite dark red shirts. Sliding into the shirt and with his wet hair merely combed back instead of blow-dried, he made his way down the short flight of stairs, when the elevator pinged and slid open.

Still dressed in her bloodstained shirt and jacket, ruined from cuts and dusted with gravel, Chloe stepped inside, fingers interlocked in front of her in a nervous gesture. It was strange, but despite her ruined attire, he could never think of anything less of her than a heavensent beauty.

"Detective." he greeted her with surprise ringing in his voice. "I thought you'd be home by now."

She bit on her lower lips, brushing away a non existent strand of hair from her face. "Yeah, erm… I… I was actually already in the car, but…" She trailed off, her eyes starting to glisten.

"Detective, I know you said it before, but… are you _really _alright?" Stepping closer he met her halfway next to his piano and looked at her intently. "I mean… I _know _you weren't momentarily in a coma or something like that." He didn't want to say the word. He wasn't sure how exactly she felt about her having been dead or if she was even aware of anything. Not a whole lot of people actually die and come back from their afterlife trip. Sure, with modern medicine it does happen, but this was not a medical resurrection so to speak, but the _real_ one.

Shaking her head, she stifled a sob and quickly wiped away a flow of tears. "Lucifer, I… I don't _know_." She pressed her lips together, her shoulders raising into a sad shrug full of worry, desperation and emotional overload.

He couldn't see her like this. Crying. Confused. Torn. It broke down his own barriers he liked to uphold, but when she was like this, he wanted nothing more than to take her in, pull her into his fortress, were he kept the warmth and gentleness, walled off to the harsh outside that felt like it would crush them. Quietly he closed the distance to her, making two more steps, and let her rest against him, his arms protectively pulling her close. Her hands raised and it was when her fingers dug directly into his back that he realised his shirt was still open and he hadn't even buttoned it up yet. Her face rested against his exposed chest and she started to tremble from soft whimpers, her body completely tensed up.

"Hey… shush… It's okay." he whispered into her hair, gently rubbing along her back. He felt the cuts in her jacket, the leather torn at several places just like her shirt beneath. He swayed with her, much like he had rocking her in the club, and breathed calming words to her until he felt her finally relaxing. Once he figured she was calm enough, he carefully spoke. "Tell me what happened… Please…" His voice was chaste, not trembling, but as featherlight as he could whisper, calm and encouragingly.

"It was… dark. But warm. Comfortably warm." she began, pushing herself tighter against him. "I don't know where I was… but… I didn't feel lost."

He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding and sighed out with a smile. "So you… you weren't in hell. I was so worried that you-" He swallowed thickly, his chest still feeling tight just thinking about it.

She pulled her head back and looked up at him, her red-rimmed, glistening eyes widening. "No! No, Lucifer, I wasn't there." she quickly assured him and bit on her lower lip. "But… I wasn't in heaven either. I was just… floating."

She fell silent again and he could tell there was more on her mind, but he was patient with her, giving her all the time she needed. Fingers brushing up and down her spine, he let her tuck herself in under his chin again. Minutes of silence passed by, but it wasn't uncomfortable, tensed or oppressive, nothing to _endure_, but to just let it drift past.

Floating in darkness. That must have been the void. A place of nothingness. A limbo of some sort. Was she aware who brought her back? Did she know why? He wanted to know, wanted to get as much information on the matter as possible, but her comfort was much more important to him than anything else, so he remained quiet.

"I heard you." she suddenly mumbled against him, her warm breath going through his chest and feeling soothing to his heart. "In that darkness. I could hear everything you said..."

Her voice sank into him as he recalled his words of desperation, longing and sadness, when he held onto her dying body, feeling as her life was slipping away, no matter how tightly he had held her against him. "I meant it." he breathed, his heart aching. He had meant what he had said; that he did not want to lose her. Although he never had voiced his full confession.

As if she had read his mind she went on. "What did you want to say, that you'd storm the gates of heaven for?" Tilting her head she looked up at him again, her blue eyes expectantly looking into endless pools of brown, that right now weren't able to hide the weight of the eons he had lived through.

Throat tightening, he feared she was able to hear his heart as it was about to jump through his chest. He felt his inner shields trembling, demanding to go up again, withdraw and hide behind a mask of smugness, indecent jokes and innuendos. But this time something was different. He had felt the loss of her and it had felt excruciating to have missed to tell her his feelings, just because he was afraid to get hurt of a potential bad response. Nervously wetting his lips, he raised a hand to caress her rosy cheek, his other staying on her lower back and keeping her close.

A small, warm but insecure smile spread on his lips as he took in her beauty. "That there was and is no one else in existence that I've ever felt towards the way I do with you." His voice began to shake when he continued with tears welling up in his eyes. "But I know now that… you're afraid me, my other side, and… I just wish things were different-"

He hadn't noticed her hand starting to move, but felt her fingers suddenly press against his lips, silencing him with the grace of her soft fingertips. His heart thumping maddeningly, he waited through the seconds of tormenting silence.

"Lucifer, why do you think I threw myself on top of you?" she asked quietly, her fingers brushing over his lips towards his cheek, lightly brushing over it and holding his gaze.

He was completely taken aback from her movement and his brain felt like it disconnected. "I thought… you were having a knee-jerk reaction… I mean…" his breath came out trembling in a nervous chuckle, "Who'd risk her own life, protecting the Devil?" His jaw tensed from the emotional onslaught. "You… would have sacrificed yourself for me. You… you _did_."

Again her lips pressed together as she nodded and he was speechless. She raised her other hand up, cupping his face in both palms and brushing her thumbs over his stubble as she continued. "And I would do it again. And again," she mimicked his words he had told her just a few weeks ago. He silently swallowed, his eyes glistening. "Didn't you know that?" she finished her quote of him and her lips raised in a gentle, loving smile.

Still speechless, lips parting as he tried to find words that just wouldn't come, he shook his head ever so lightly. His eyes flickered up and down between hers and her lips and slowly he started to lean down. His warm breath met hers as she tilted up towards him and he sealed her delicate lips with his own. He was careful, reserved as to not overwhelm her with the actual desire than burned inside him, but when she invited him in, he couldn't hold back his longing reaction. Moaning he tasted her, delving into her mouth as his hands snuck around her back, hungrily pulling her close.

She responded with a moan of her own, tasting him in return and moving to give his lips the sweetest of attention he had ever received. When they were both breathless, she pulled away to rest her head against his, her palms sliding from his cheeks down to rest on his bare chest. "Lucifer, I don't _want_ to be afraid. And I almost didn't have the chance to tell you, how much you mean to me." She paused, thinking briefly. "I want to be okay. I want _us_ to be okay."

Feeling her slender fingers against his chest, was a sweet torment, he happily endured for the time being and he hoped, she would let his lips praise hers again. "Me too, Detective." he whispered hoarsely.

Her eyes searched in his for a moment as she was clearly going back and forth over something in her detective-brain. Her tongue shortly tipped out to moisture her swollen lips and she tilted her head to the side a bit. "Could you please show it to me again? You know… your _other side_." she asked, gently empathising her last words.

His body tensed at her request, the possibility of frightening her, or having her be appalled from his Devil side was troubling. But she had asked. Genuinely wanting to see his Devil face again, in order to fight against her own fears. She wanted to overcome it not just for her sake, but for _them._

And who was he, to ever deny her a wish?

He would do _everything_ for her.

Including showing her his other side.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There you go. I really enjoyed bringing both "other sides" into the mention here, the place where Chloe went as well as Lucifer's Devil side. I was thinking about going more in depth of where she went and what happened, but I think it doesn't necessarily have to be. I hope you enjoyed this little twist of the episode's happenings and how I explored another continuation of this. See you in the next fic! Leave a comment if you like. Always curious to know what you think. Until then!


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